(no subject)
Chocolate #26. Nostalgia
Rating : G
Timeframe : 1261
Well, it's neither Shakti's smut, nor the battle I left hanging, but it's a story! Thank write_imagine
“I do not see why you are making such a fuss,” said Ski, carefully settling on the edge of the bed so as not to wake the baby sprawled in the center of the mattress. “It will be some time before Mara has need of a room of her own.”
“It’s not as if I need it either.” Lyssa dug through the massive dresser, heaping their contents onto the rug.
“Surely you plan on coming by,” Ski said, brows knitting as she watched the pile of her sister’s old belongings grow. “I cannot see how you could justify running off and leaving us.”
The chestnut head poised over an open drawer gave an exasperated shake. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to-” She straightened suddenly, a mass of deep blue silk draped across her outstretched hands.
Ski watched as she stared in silence for long moments at the fabric without moving. “Lyssa?” she said at last.
Lyssa’s head spun in her direction, her body jerking as she came to attention. Both their eyes fell to the scrap of paper that fluttered from the cloth to the floor. Without a word, Lyssa bent to snatch it up, stuffing it into the neck of her shirt as she turned away.
“What was-”
“It’s nothing.” Lyssa’s voice was tight.
Ski couldn’t imagine what Lyssa could have found in a room she hadn’t visited since they were children that would disturb her so. Except it hadn’t been so long since they were last here, she reminded herself. Not even two years. And she had stood right there, with that same swaddling blanket in her hands, talking about bringing it back with her, talking about-
“Oh, Lyssa,” Ski said, unable to even finish the thought, her hand settling over her mouth . “Is that from when we were here last?”
Ski could see just enough of her sister’s mouth to note the forcible upward turn it took. “It was my birthday,” Lyssa said. She retrieved the card and flipped it open, skimming over the contents. “He never could write,” she mused. “Remember the shopping lists?” She gnawed her lip, tears welling in her eyes.
“Lyssa,” Ski pushed herself to her feet and laid a hand on her back.
“I’m fine,” Lyssa said, blinking back the moisture.
Ski sighed and said what she always did. “I am sure we could still find him.”
This time Lyssa found a new excuse. Her eyes settled on the tiny form, snoring amidst the pillows before she leveled them at Ski. “And just what would we tell him?”
Ski looked between the two, her mouth opening and closing without sound. “We would think of something,” she said at last.
Rating : G
Timeframe : 1261
Well, it's neither Shakti's smut, nor the battle I left hanging, but it's a story! Thank write_imagine
“I do not see why you are making such a fuss,” said Ski, carefully settling on the edge of the bed so as not to wake the baby sprawled in the center of the mattress. “It will be some time before Mara has need of a room of her own.”
“It’s not as if I need it either.” Lyssa dug through the massive dresser, heaping their contents onto the rug.
“Surely you plan on coming by,” Ski said, brows knitting as she watched the pile of her sister’s old belongings grow. “I cannot see how you could justify running off and leaving us.”
The chestnut head poised over an open drawer gave an exasperated shake. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to-” She straightened suddenly, a mass of deep blue silk draped across her outstretched hands.
Ski watched as she stared in silence for long moments at the fabric without moving. “Lyssa?” she said at last.
Lyssa’s head spun in her direction, her body jerking as she came to attention. Both their eyes fell to the scrap of paper that fluttered from the cloth to the floor. Without a word, Lyssa bent to snatch it up, stuffing it into the neck of her shirt as she turned away.
“What was-”
“It’s nothing.” Lyssa’s voice was tight.
Ski couldn’t imagine what Lyssa could have found in a room she hadn’t visited since they were children that would disturb her so. Except it hadn’t been so long since they were last here, she reminded herself. Not even two years. And she had stood right there, with that same swaddling blanket in her hands, talking about bringing it back with her, talking about-
“Oh, Lyssa,” Ski said, unable to even finish the thought, her hand settling over her mouth . “Is that from when we were here last?”
Ski could see just enough of her sister’s mouth to note the forcible upward turn it took. “It was my birthday,” Lyssa said. She retrieved the card and flipped it open, skimming over the contents. “He never could write,” she mused. “Remember the shopping lists?” She gnawed her lip, tears welling in her eyes.
“Lyssa,” Ski pushed herself to her feet and laid a hand on her back.
“I’m fine,” Lyssa said, blinking back the moisture.
Ski sighed and said what she always did. “I am sure we could still find him.”
This time Lyssa found a new excuse. Her eyes settled on the tiny form, snoring amidst the pillows before she leveled them at Ski. “And just what would we tell him?”
Ski looked between the two, her mouth opening and closing without sound. “We would think of something,” she said at last.